My Fairytale
by KimimiCchi
Summary: At first he hated the idea of a two-week-long holiday in Cumbria; two weeks of boredom, two weeks of no adventure whatsoever. At first he was sure that he'd drown in the pit of no excitement that was to be his holiday. Then he met him, and he realized that he was wrong. Oh God, was he wrong...
1. Prologue

Obnoxiously bright light filtering through my dark blue curtains was what woke me that morning. Actually, that's what woke me most mornings. If it wasn't the invading light from the sun, it was the equally obnoxious blaring from the mobile sat on my bedside table as the alarm set off, causing it to vibrate against the wood underneath it. Funnily enough, it went off as soon as I turned over and attempted to doze off again.

Groaning in annoyance I reached behind me and, after a few fruitless attempts at grabbing the device that was currently creating the most fucking irritating racket I had ever heard, I picked up the mobile and turned the damned thing off. I threw it in the general direction of the bean bag in the corner, the soft 'thud' indicating that this time I hadn't thrown it against the wall and woken anyone up at the ungodly hour of eight in the morning.

As soon as I had kicked off the rocket and star patterned bed sheets I realized how warm I was. The middle of summer was a heartless time of the year when temperature was concerned, and I found myself getting dressed slower than usual due to both the heat and the fact that I had woken up not two minutes ago.

My morning routine was the same as always. The first step was to get sorted and out of the apartment, which today I managed to do without waking Kiku up. I sighed in relief as I got outside. As cool as my best friend and flatmate was, he knew just how to pay me back for waking him up even a few minutes early in the mornings. The last time had involved wrapping everything in my bedroom in tin foil and then opening the curtains, revealing the shiny, reflective room to the bright, unforgiving sun. I have to admit it, the guy's great at planning these things.

I'd arrived at the Starbucks I often frequented at, successfully undertaking step two of my daily routine. It was when I was waiting for my coffee that it happened. It wasn't anything spectacular really, something most people wouldn't give a second thought about.

Sat on the counter was a small portable radio set. A few dents and scratches made its old, well-used life shine through and I briefly wondered if it had always been there. I'd never noticed it before, that's for sure.

But I wasn't interested in the radio as much as I was in the song. A gentle violin melody, a young voice. The lyrics. The lyrics were what made me stop for a second and think.

Have you ever been able to connect with a song? I don't mean in an I-know-what-this-means-so-I-understand way, I mean on a deep emotional level, like it can explain a key point of your life. To be honest, I never thought it was possible until this moment.

I quickly left Starbucks, caramel macchiato in hand, and started walking. I walked all the way to the park, some small part of my brain deciding that I should take the long route today, as it was clear that the other, larger part of my brain wasn't going to stop remembering the events that took place over the course of two weeks in a summer three years ago any time soon.

At some point I'd stopped walking, and now stood in the shadow of a tall, proud oak tree. Three years. It felt like forever and at the same time it felt like no time at all. I remembered every day, in little snippets of the past. Most of those thoughts and memories involved my time spent with _him_, and I'd often wondered if he remembered and thought of me as much as I remembered and thought of him. I'd often wondered if, by some miracle, we would meet again. The chances were slim, I knew that. It was a wide world after all...

But then again, I guess it was by chance that I met Arthur in the first place.

* * *

**A/N: **Guess who's back with a new story! I got the idea after listening to the song Fairytale by Alexander Rybak, which, if you're interested, is the song that's playing on the portable radio. Here's a link if you want to listen to it: watch?v=1ycWOSJusrc It's really good!

For those of you wondering what happened to my Hunger Games-inspired AU 'A Game Of Life Or Murder', I kinda forgot what I was doing and gave up on it. Sorry about that. But that won't happen to this one and I'm gonna do my best and it'll be fricking awesome!


	2. Chapter 1

Sleep. That was the only thing that I wanted right now; good jet-lag-induced sleep. I was denied of my want, however, as soon after leaving the airport I found the taxi my parents called pulling into a car park that was seemingly in the middle of nowhere, tires causing shards of gravel to scrape against each other.

My mom's sing-song voice called out as she opened the door, my dad thanking and paying the driver.

"We're here!"

"Where is 'here'?" I sat up as I spoke, looking out the taxi window before opening the door. By this point, I didn't need my mom's answer, but I heard it anyway.

"Buttermere."

I inwardly groaned. A lake. Nothing exciting at all, just a fucking lake, in the middle of a fucking lake district in fucking England. I opened the taxi door slowly, accepting that this was pretty much setting the tone for my two-week holiday in Cumbria.

The taxi pulled away, my mom waving it off with a cheery smile. How the hell could she be so happy while on holiday in a place like this? A place where dark grey clouds hung gloomily in the air with a promise to bring rain in the coming hours, where the lack of sun made everything look so dull and boring. Why would anyone want to be _here_ when you could be happily enjoying the heat wave back home in America?

I sighed, not realizing I was walking until I was right on the edge of the bank. Panic flashed across my mind because damn that water looked cold and I sure as hell didn't want to freeze my nuts off before I'd been in this country for a full hour and found nothing better to do. Luck didn't seem to be on my side today though, and sure enough I fell face-first into the lake, hearing a high-pitched scream from behind me as I hit the surface of the water, a scream that was either my mom or some old chick who I'd probably just scared the shit out of.

It turned out that the water _was_ as cold as I thought it was - and people say I'm oblivious to everything, ha, that sure showed them!

Then I remembered that I'd just fallen into a lake.

_"I'm gonna drown,"_ I thought to myself as I started to sink, lower and lower. _"I'm gonna drown. Shit. Fuck, that's not a heroic way to die. I'm supposed to go down fighting, not by accidentally falling into a lake in England. God fucking dammit!"_

A sudden force pulled me upwards. Before I knew it I could breathe again. I bent forwards, coughing, spluttering, trying to get air back into my lungs. I was shivering but I either didn't notice or didn't care - or maybe even both - as I attempted to form a thank you for whoever had saved my life, my attempts coming out as wheezes and gasps.

"Don't try to talk. You're just wasting air if you do that, are you not? Silly thing to do after you've almost drowned in a lake if you ask me."

I jumped at the sudden voice. It sounded so close, as well as unmistakably British. Turning around, I was met with a pair of strikingly green eyes only centimetres away from my own. It was either the closeness of the guy behind me or the embarrassment of what I did next that caused the light blush to form on my cheeks, but next thing I knew I was squealing and nearly falling back into the lake.

An arm caught me however, an arm that belonged to the Brit kneeling in front of me, and soon enough I was on my feet and being led towards a small hut-like building nearby. Everything was happening in a blur, nothing seeming to make sense any more due to both shock and heat - or lack of it. I just about caught something being said about spare clothes in a nearby British accent before I passed out.

* * *

I woke to a familiar sounding voice speaking in a hushed tone and unfamiliar warmth. As my eyes flickered open, I instantly noticed the presence of someone next to me and concluded that the voice was coming from them, though when I glanced around nobody else seemed to be here. Who the hell was he talking to then?

At the exact moment that question popped into my mind, the talking stopped. There was a minute of silence before he spoke again, this time directing his conversation to me.

"Ah, you're awake. Good. You might not remember much, but despite the fact that you passed out on me and nearly bloody crushed me while doing so I was kind enough to warm you up, meaning that your clothes aren't as damp as they were after I pulled you out of the lake you fell in. Well done, by the way. I have to say, that was by far the stupidest way to accidentally fall into a body of water."

"What the hell do you mean by that?!" This guy had taken me inside and warmed me up next to a radiator after saving me from drowning in a lake, a pretty heroic act but now he was proving to be a stuck-up sarcastic bastard. I hadn't known him for five minutes and he was already pissing me off.

"You just walked straight into the bloody thing! I thought you would've noticed but uh-uh. I had to run over there and save your sorry arse, and now you won't even bless me with a thank you, which is very rude of you."

I rolled my eyes and sat up, ignoring his obvious request of thanks. He rewarded my actions with a pointed stare, but seemed to drop the subject.

"There are clothes folded up over there," he gestured to a pile of clothes sat on a green denim couch across the room. It was then I noticed that we were in an office-like room, and I came to the conclusion that it was probably a base of operations for people who keep the area clean, judging by the nets and litter pickers leaning on the wall in the corner, "go and change your clothes. You'll catch a cold otherwise."

I made my way over to the couch, picking up the folded shirt before glancing over my shoulder, finding the Brit sat on the couch opposite - also green denim - looking out the window.

"Are you gonna... Y'know. Leave?" I asked. This guy sure was weird.

"I'd love to, but I've been told to stay here until I know that you're not going to die of pneumonia upon stepping outside."

There was a short and awkward silence, filled only with my movement as I looked from the clothes to him and then back again. He seemed to be getting annoyed as he grit his teeth and spoke again, his voice slightly more demanding.

"Just hurry up and do it!"

I quickly pulled my damp top off and hurried to get changed, not wanting to anger this guy any further. After about a minute he seemed to calm down and we fell back into an awkward silence as I tried to quieten any shuffling noises I made while I continued to dress.

"What's your name?"

The sudden question caught me off guard and I made a quiet squeak of surprise, blushing a little from embarrassment and hoping that the noise wasn't heard - he might think I'm lame or something, which I'm totally not!

"What?"

"The word is 'pardon'," he sighed, and I had an overwhelming urge to punch him in the face. "It would be ungentlemanly of me if I didn't at least ask for your name, am I correct?"

I rolled my eyes a little at the irony of his 'ungentlemanly' statement, as that was exactly how he had acted since I woke up.

"It's Alfred."

The Briton behind me hummed at this with what sounded like mild amusement before speaking again.

"Arthur."

* * *

Arthur and I returned to the outside world a few minutes later, me carrying my damp clothes and him complaining about how they'd get creased because I hadn't bothered to fold them. My parents were waiting for me, thought I couldn't spot the Brit's parents anywhere nearby. I figured that they were likely walking around the lake, so didn't pay the thought much attention.

"Alfred, dear," my mom immediately began to fuss over me. My dad looked at me, his expression a mixture of relief, amusement, and mild pity. The third emotion made me smile. "I know I said that spending some time outside with nature would be good for your jet-lag, but I think you might've taken it a little too far by trying to swim in the lake, yeah?"

I nodded. "Yeah, sorry mom."

"Who was that boy who helped you? You thanked him, yeah?"

I suddenly remembered that no, I hadn't thanked him.

Spinning around, my eyes fell on where he had been standing just minutes ago, but Arthur was gone.

* * *

**A/N:** This update's taken longer than I wanted it to due to some technical issues and Christmas, and I seriously do apologise for that. It's back up now, though! Also, I won't lie, I really, really enjoyed writing this chapter. These two are so much fun to write about with all their arguing and fall-outs. Oh, by the way Buttermere is actually a lake in the lake district in Cumbria! I had to do some research to find it though, and it's really pretty. I've never been there though, so there probably isn't actually a hut like there is in this story. But hey, this _is_ fiction.

And finally, a slow-clap-filled-applause to Alfred for managing to literally walk into a lake. Well done, bro!


End file.
